


Best of Friends

by AmoretteHD



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dominance, Dubious Consent, F/F, Humiliation, Lingerie, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-29
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2018-01-06 16:19:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1108945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmoretteHD/pseuds/AmoretteHD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Astoria always wanted to be one of the big girls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best of Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gamma_Orionis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gamma_Orionis/gifts).



The Great Hall was buzzing during lunch, and Astoria walked through the crowd until she reached the Slytherin table. She spotted her older sister sitting with her friends near the end of it - it was an unspoken rule that the higher years sat furthest away from the professors, with the first years nearest. Herself being a fifth year, Astoria felt a bit bitter about being cloistered right in the middle. She desperately wanted to sit at the end, like the older girls, but she knew Daphne would never let her. 

As she walked by Daphne and her group of girlfriends, who huddled together sniggering quietly about something or other, Astoria’s gaze lingered far too long on Pansy Parkinson. The Queen Bee. Parkinson was one of those girls who always looked perfect - her hair always soft and glossy around her face, her skin clear and pristine, and her nails always painted. Every bloke in Slytherin wanted her, and every girl wanted to be her best friend.

Oh, how Astoria both admired and hated her.

Just then, Parkinson looked up and caught Astoria’s eye. Astoria stopped in surprise, frozen to the spot with her mouth falling open. She should think of something to say instead of just standing there like a gaping fish. Anything at all. But her mind was suddenly as blank as parchment, and all she was capable of doing was staring helplessly into Parkinson’s smirking face. 

“Your sister’s being weird again,” Bulstrode said, and Daphne whipped her head around. 

This brought Astoria’s senses back to her, and she blinked rapidly, suddenly feeling very small under all those judging gazes. 

Daphne looked ready to murder her. “Astoria…” she said in a warning tone, her cheeks colouring pink. “What do you want?” 

Astoria tried to speak, but nothing came out, save a strained sort of gurgle.

Daphne whispered almost inaudibly, but Astoria understood the movement of her lips: _“Stop embarrassing me.”_

Tracey Davis let out a mocking sound of false pity. “Awww…. Maybe she wants to sit with us.”

“No,” Daphne snapped. She turned back to Astoria. “You can’t sit here. Go to your part of the table.”

All the while, Parkinson remained silent, with a wicked gleam in her eye. Her smile was sickly sweet, and it sent a nervous flutter through Astoria’s chest. 

“Er… right, then.” Astoria could barely form words while also trying to tear her eyes away from Parkinson. “Bye!” She walked away quickly, her ears buzzing with the sound of their laughter. 

~ * ~ 

That evening, Astoria sat with her Transfiguration essay unrolled before her. Although it was finished, she was looking it over one final time before bed. There, in front of the fireplace, the Slytherin common room didn’t feel quite so cold. She’d often prop herself down on the sofa with her schoolwork fanned out around her. Daphne called her a swot, even though Astoria insisted she was nothing of the sort. 

A shadow fell over her scroll, and Astoria looked up to see someone standing in front of her, blocking the light from the fireplace. She let out a small gasp when she realized it was Parkinson.

“You don’t have many friends, do you?” Parkinson asked, her arms folded in front of her.

Astoria almost choked again, but then she calmly exhaled, set down her scroll, and looked Parkinson square in the eye. “I do have friends,” she said firmly, thankful her voice didn’t quiver.

“Oh?” Parkinson turned her head left and right, scanning the area. “Where are they then?”

Astoria licked her lips as she racked her brain for something acceptably quippy. Parkinson watched her intently. 

“We don’t need to hang around each other all the time,” she said. She wanted to add, _unlike your lot_ , but her shred of bravery failed to take her that far. And she _did_ have a friend, truth be told. Albeit, a single friend. From Ravenclaw. Whom she mostly saw in the library when they both had loads of homework… 

To her surprise, Parkinson took a seat next to Astoria on the sofa. She invaded Astoria’s space, not quite pressing against her, but not far enough for comfort. The warmth of her body radiated. Or maybe that was Astoria’s body doing that… She felt stiflingly hot all the sudden, like her clothes were too tight, and she scooted away an inch. She needed to breathe air again, and not wafts of Parkinson’s heady perfume.

Parkinson smiled sweetly and said, “How would you like to make a new friend?”

“You mean… You’re saying…” Astoria was obviously interpreting things wrong, because Parkinson would never offer to be her friend. 

She was then struck with a horrible realization, and she clenched her jaw tight. Anger and hurt rolling through her gut. 

“This is a joke, isn’t it? A trick.”

“What is?”

“You… Coming over here… Talking to me.” Astoria sat up and looked over the back of the sofa. “Where’s my sister? She must be around here somewhere, laughing like mad.”

However, Daphne was nowhere in sight, and neither were any of her friends. In fact, the common room was dark and quiet, save for a scattering of people. There was one group of sixth year boys whom Astoria recognized as being on the Quidditch team, and two girls studying by candlelight in a far corner. But no Daphne. 

“I’m not sure what you’re on about, Greengrass, but you’re rather adorable.”

Astoria turned back to her with a slack jaw and burning cheeks. “No, I’m not,” she mumbled, moving away from her on the sofa. 

Parkinson rested her hand in the newly-formed gap between them. “In fact, let’s just keep Daphne out of this, hmm?”

“Out of what?”

“Our new friendship.” Parkinson grinned. 

Astoria was torn, and more than a bit confused. On the one hand, she had a feeling she shouldn’t trust Parkinson’s spontaneous offer of friendship. On the other hand… it was only everything she’d dreamed of since her first day off the train at Hogwarts.

“You want to be my friend?” Astoria asked, a bit breathless. “Why?”

“Like I said. You’re adorable.” 

Astoria hated herself for blushing again, but those kinds of words from Parkinson filled her with a twisted sense of pleasure. 

“And you’re smart,” Parkinson continued, “and your fashion sense isn’t too bad.” She then looked Astoria up and down with a raised eyebrow. “I think it would be good fun to take you under my wing. Teach you a thing or two.”

Her brain was screaming at her to be suspicious of Parkinson, but the rest of Astoria thrummed with the pleasure of feeling liked. Not only liked, but sought out. By one of her sister’s friends. She fleetingly wondered if she was actually dreaming this. Maybe she’d fallen asleep on her books again, like that one time in the library. She only barely refrained from pinching herself.

“For instance, we’ll start with your hair.” Parkinson leaned forward and reached out a hand to run her fingers through Astoria’s hair, brushing it out of her face. 

Astoria jumped at the touch, but she had already pulled back as far as the armrest, and was now trapped between it and Parkinson. A predicament that left her heart racing and her skin tingling.

“I’ll show you this spell that straightens hair.” She twirled one of Astoria’s soft curls through her finger. “And you should wear a headband. I prefer thinner bands myself, but I think a nice thick headband would look cute on you. Like the sweet thing you are.” Parkinson tilted her head. “You’d be such a doll.”

Astoria found herself nodding for some reason.

“Oh, and your uniform. You’re always so buttoned up, you remind me of a mini Madame Pince.” Parkinson sniggered at that, which stung just a little. “Maybe roll up the waistband of your skirt like everyone else does. You know... to look a bit less like Hermione Granger.”

Astoria didn’t say anything, only swallowed. Parkinson moved closer again, and her hands gripped Astoria’s hips. She rolled down the waistband of Astoria’s skirt once, before Astoria gasped and pushed her hands away. “It’s all right, I’ve got it,” she stammered. “I can do it myself.”

Parkinson’s hands never left her. They moved down to rest casually on Astoria’s bare thighs. Astoria dared not say a word, but her whole body was burning, stemming from Parkinson’s touch. Parkinson acted like she didn’t notice. Like it was perfectly normal for Astoria to be nearly bent backwards over the sofa armrest.

“I’ll tell you what,” Parkinson said. “This weekend, there’s a Hogsmeade trip. I know for a fact Daphne’s not going.”

Astoria swallowed. “So?”

“Come with me. I’ll even buy you something. Like stockings.” She ran her hands down Astoria’s thighs, bringing them to rest on her knees. Astoria had to press her lips together to keep from gasping. “Stockings always complete an outfit,” Parkinson continued, and then smirked. “There’s so much I could teach you.”

“I just have one question,” Astoria said. 

“Yes?”

“Why? I… I thought you didn’t like me,” she choked out.

Parkinson pulled away then, folding her hands in her lap, suddenly prim. Her lasciviousness vanished, to be replaced by an almost thoughtful expression. “I’ve never had a sister,” she said. “It’s really something I’ve always envied about Daphne.”

Astoria was left gaping at her as Parkinson rose and turned toward the direction of the dorms. Before she reached the end of the sofa, she turned back with another smile, her gaze lingering. 

“Especially having a little sister as pretty as you.”

Another blush overtook Astoria as she watched Parkinson’s back, the hem of her skirt bouncing and skimming her mid-thigh as she walked.

~ * ~

“ _That’s_ what you’re wearing to Hogsmeade?” Parkinson asked with a raised eyebrow. “Good God, I’ve got my work cut out for me,” she sighed, turning around and walking down the path that led to the carriages. 

Astoria shuffled her feet, feeling suddenly very self-conscious in her oversized Slytherin House scarf and wooly green mittens. She ran to catch up with Parkinson.

The carriage ride was silent, and Astoria kept her gaze locked on the scenery. But when they got off at the beginning of the village’s main street, Parkinson pulled Astoria by the hand and dragged her along in the direction of the shops.

“Do you own any makeup, Greengrass?”

“Er… my parents never let me wear any.”

“Thought so.”

“They say I’m still too young…”

“Too young?” Parkinson asked, looking completely affronted. “I was wearing makeup at twelve. You scared of your mum, are you?”

“No!”

“Right…” Parkinson said, not sounding convinced. “And how old are you?”

“Fifteen.”

“Well, then, I think you can get away with wearing a bit of makeup. How will your mother find out, anyways, when you’re here at Hogwarts and she’s all the way in London?”

Astoria snorted. “Daphne. How else?”

“Oh, shush, and leave Daphne to me.”

Astoria smiled as she was filled with a sense of empowerment she’d never felt before. Parkinson had the power to keep her sister in line. It was a fascinating revelation. It only made her want to please Parkinson, to do whatever the girl wanted, and to keep on Parkinson’s good side.

So when Parkinson thrust various bits and pieces at her - a vast array of cosmetics and hair creams and nail polishes - Astoria took them without complaint. She held the little basket full of things, and followed Parkinson around the store like a shadow. 

Parkinson bought everything. Astoria protested, insisting she had money of her own, but Parkinson was adamant about making the purchases herself. When they finally left the shop, it was beginning to snow in a light flurry. Parkinson told Astoria to go into the Hog’s Head and order them two Butterbeers. 

“Where are you going?” Astoria asked, clutching the bag of trinkets to her chest. 

She wasn’t expecting the stern look Parkinson threw her. “Don’t question me,” she said coolly. “Just do as I say.” With that, she whipped around and walked off.

Astoria narrowed her eyes and pouted as snowflakes fell and melted on her nose. She didn’t like to think of herself as Parkinson’s whipping girl, but neither did she want to anger Parkinson and ruin whatever tentative _thing_ was happening between them, so she swallowed her pride for the moment and headed to the Hog’s Head. Albeit, glumly.

“What’s all that?” Astoria asked wide-eyed when Parkinson met her at the pub.

Parkinson threw three bags into the booth before her and then sat down opposite Astoria, her cheeks flushed from the cold. “I did a bit of extra shopping without you.”

“Why?”

“Because. I want it to be a surprise.” Then she smiled deviantly. “Just some panties and things.”

“What?” Astoria asked, clutching the edge of the table. 

“Relax.”

“For you or for…” She lowered her voice to a whisper, for some reason feeling it necessary. “For me?”

Parkinson laughed. “For you, of course. I have enough pretty things, thank you. But yours are probably hideous. So I bought you some new ones.”

“But… but…” Astoria was sure her face reflected the horror - and, if she were honest, embarrassment - she felt. “But… you don’t know my size,” she finished lamely.

“I can guess.” Parkinson said, her eyes lingering over Astoria’s body a bit too long. “You can try them on when we get back to school.”

Astoria fell heavily against the back of the booth, slumping her shoulder. 

~ * ~

Astoria tugged at the back of the panties, trying futilely to get them to cover her entire arse. She heard an exasperated sigh on the other side of the partition.

“What the bloody hell is taking you so long?” Parkinson asked. 

Astoria poked her head around the edge of the dressing partition. Parkinson sat on Astoria’s bed, leaning back on her hands and looking thoroughly bored. 

“I told you!” Astoria said. “You got them too small.”

Parkinson giggled. “Oh, come on. Let me see.” She beckoned with her hand. 

Astoria sighed and stepped out, feeling her cheeks heat. She stood awkwardly, over-aware of Parkinson’s sharp gaze roaming her nearly naked body. The silence in the room was deafening.

“Turn around,” Parkinson said quietly. 

Astoria bit her lip, ignoring the tingling between her legs, and did a slow turn. Parkinson let out a soft sigh behind her. 

“They’re just right,” Parkinson said when Astoria faced her again. Parkinson sat more rigidly than before. 

“What are you talking about? They barely cover my twat.”

A smile curled Parkinson’s lips. “Don’t be daft. It’s called _sex appeal_ , Greengrass. Or haven’t you heard of it?” 

Astoria frowned. “I’ve never really thought about being sexy.”

“Well, that’s obvious.” Parkinson sat up. “But now you are. And you can wear this pair to school on Monday.”

Astoria considered the teeny panties and the lacy bralette. She didn’t particularly mind the bra being sheer and the fact that Parkinson could see her nipples underneath the fabric - growing up with a sister made her comfortable enough around girls. But she just wasn’t used to these type of undergarments. They looked like they belonged to someone older. Someone in her twenties, who intended to show them off...

“Pansy, do _you_ wear these types of things under your clothes?” she asked suddenly, the thought spilling from her lips without thought.

“Yes. I’m a proper lady, after all.”

Astoria wanted to laugh, but bit her lip. If the things she heard about Parkinson and Draco Malfoy were true, Parkinson was anything but a lady. 

“Now,” Pansy said as she stepped off the bed. “Let’s get the rest of you ready.”

~ * ~

Monday rolled around, and Astoria stepped out of her room feeling apprehensive. She had done everything Parkinson had told her to do. Her hair was straight and shiny, and she wore a thick, girly headband that made her feel loads more cutesy than she was. It sent a sensation to her groin, and she clenched her legs together to make it go away.

Her lashes were curled, and her makeup was done just like Parkinson had taught her over the weekend. She had even rolled up her skirt. The thing that worried her most was that she also wore the stockings Parkinson wanted her to wear. The kind of stockings that stopped mid-thigh and needed to be held up with a garter. Astoria thought it was all rather stupid, because she could have just worn stockings that went all the way up like underwear and stopped at her waist; that way, avoiding the garter altogether. But when she pointed that out, she found Parkinson didn’t see it the same way. 

On her way to lunch, someone grabbed her by the arm, and she realized it was Parkinson. She pulled Astoria in the direction of a tapestry. 

“What are you doing?” Astoria said. 

“Shh! I don’t want anyone to hear us.”

She pulled Astoria down a hallway and behind a tapestry, where there was a small alcove. Astoria wondered how Parkinson knew it was there, and then decided she didn’t want to know. It was just wide enough for both of them to fit into without touching, although barely. With every move she made, Astoria pressed into Parkinson in some way. 

Parkinson, of course, didn’t seem to have an issue with the cramped space - she didn’t have any concept of personal boundaries, from what she’d shown. 

“Did you wear them?” she asked.

“Wear what?”

Parkinson rolled her eyes. “The underwear!”

“Oh, right. Yes. I have them on.”

Parkinson raised her eyebrows. “Show them to me.”

“What?” Astoria started, and pressed back hard against the stone wall of the alcove.

“Now.”

Her voice was resolute, and Astoria’s fingers fluttered over the hem of her skirt. 

“Don’t you believe me?” she breathed.

“Are you questioning me again?” Pansy asked.

Astoria swallowed. The air became stifling and hot. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, you have to.”

Astoria frowned, her skin burning all over with something like shame, and her pussy tingling something fierce. She slowly pulled up her skirt, exposing the lace at the top of her stockings, and then further up to show a bit of her panties. 

Parkinson’s eyes were bright and intense. “Pull it up around your waist.”

Astoria lifted her skirt higher until it bunched around her middle and her entire groin was exposed. 

“Good girl.” Parkinson’s voice was quiet and low. “How did it feel to have these on today?”

“It was all right. They sort of bunched up though… wasn’t too comfortable to sit down.”

Parkinson exhaled roughly.

All of a sudden, her hand was between Astoria’s legs, and Astoria shrieked. Parkinson clasped her other hand over Astoria’s mouth. “Shut up.” 

Parkinson’s fingers moved slowly, tracing the shape of Astoria’s pussy over the panties. 

Astoria stood deathly still, breathing hard and staring at Parkinson in disbelief. She was sure Parkinson could hear her heartbeat. It was the first time she’d ever been touched there. 

Parkinson traced the line that separated her pussy lips with one finger, moving it back and forth along the crease.

“They’re moist,” Parkinson said, lowering her hand from Astoria’s mouth. 

Astoria’s cheeks burned. “I don’t know why! I think it’s because they kept bunching up when I sat, and going up… up my… They are really tight, you know. I told you they were too small.”

“They’re perfect,” Parkinson breathed. Her eyes lowered to Astoria’s chest. “And the bra?”

Astoria nodded. “I’m wearing it.”

“Let me see it,” Parkinson demanded.

Astoria nodded again shakily, and with one hand still holding up her skirt, she used the other to unbutton the top of her blouse. Soon, what little cleavage she had was exposed. 

“I’m very pleased, Astoria,” Parkinson said. 

Astoria wasn’t sure why, but she felt good knowing that. 

“How about we try a little experiment?”

“What is it?” Astoria asked. Part of her wasn’t quite sure she wanted to know, and another part was dying to find out.

“I want your panties to stay wet. Always.”

Astoria’s pulse sped up. “I don’t know how that would be possible.”

“Oh, you sweet little thing,” Parkinson said, while she resumed petting Astoria’s pussy, ignoring Astoria’s sharp intake of breath. “Just imagine I’m touching you like this. I want you to imagine it before every class, just as the lesson is beginning, so you can be wet all through the hour.”

“But why would I want to? I won’t be able to pay atte -” Astoria jumped and gasped when Parkinson grabbed one of her nipples hard between her thumb and forefinger. “Ow,” she whined as Parkinson pinched it. Moisture was gathering in her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “That hurts,” she said in a small voice. 

“What have I told you about questioning me? Hm?” Parkinson squeezed her nipple and twisted it, and Astoria made a high pitched sound in the back of her throat. “I know you’re not thick, Greengrass, so why can’t you remember something so simple?”

“You said not to question you.”

Parkinson let go of her nipple and smiled. She brought her hand up instead to trace Astoria’s cheek. “Good girl.”

Then Parkinson did something truly surprising: she leaned in and kissed her. Right on the mouth. Astoria held her breath and didn’t move a muscle - didn’t even let go of her skirt, which she continued to hold bunched up around her waist. Her eyes remained open the whole time as her brain raced to process what was happening.

Moments later, Parkinson pulled away. When she saw the expression on Astoria’s face, she grinned. “Tomorrow,” she said, “I’ll give you a different set of bra and panties to wear. You’ll find them under your bed.” She stepped away from Astoria and turned to grip the tapestry. “Stay here for five minutes after I leave. Don’t you _dare_ put your skirt down. Think about the shower you’re going to take this evening. Think about exactly how you’re going to shave all the hair off your pussy.”

She left Astoria standing there, her mouth open in shock.

Astoria couldn’t sleep that night. As much as she tried to steer her mind away, it kept roaming back to that kiss. She couldn’t even remember what it felt like; she had been in too much shock. Her first instinct was to want to be disgusted, but she slowly accepted the fact that she wasn’t. Far from it, actually - she was rather intrigued by the kiss. More and more, she found herself wanting to remember what it had felt like. She licked her lips as she imagined kissing Parkinson again.

This brought her thoughts to earlier...to the package she had come back to find underneath her bed. 

When she had returned to her room earlier, after dinner, the first thing she did was kneel and peek under the bed. Just as promised, a small black box sat on the floor. Astoria had made sure she was alone, then picked it up and sat on her bed with it. 

She still blushed thinking about its contents. The panties were even smaller this time. Black lace that was so thin in front, it would surely ride inside her with each step, and the back was a thin-strap thong. Astoria had never worn a thong before. She wondered what it would feel like.

The bra was even worse. Not only was it sheer again, but this time there was a hole in each cup where her nipples would stick out. 

Astoria shoved her face into her pillow and clenched her thighs tightly.

~ * ~

The first class the following morning was torture. With every step she took, the skinny thong rode up her twat, and without hair, it was even more smooth and slippery down there. She immediately got wet - her body’s natural reaction to the lacy intrusion that rubbed against her clit. It was uncomfortable at first, but as she got wetter and wetter, the fabric became slicker, and it didn’t chafe as much. If she sat perfectly still, she was able to ignore it.

The thing that made her blush furiously, though, was the bra. Her nipples fit right into the holes in the soft cup. They poked through into the open air, making her feel strange and naked. When she had slipped on her blouse, the fabric brushed against them. Since the rest of her breast was covered up, the nipple was extra sensitive, being the only part exposed. 

At first they had hardened into little nubs, and she had rubbed them to warm them and make them soft again. She wondered if Parkinson knew this would happen, and if she had imagined that Astoria would be standing in her room rubbing her own nipples. She wondered what Parkinson would think if she saw her, and a flood of hot embarrassment made her cringe. 

In class, she hoped no one could tell. She began to panic, and she wondered if the white blouse was too sheer and if people could see the color of her pink nipples through the fabric. She looked around, glancing from one bored-looking classmate to the next. No one was paying any attention to her, and she was awarded a small bit of relief. 

Parkinson caught her on her way to her second class. 

“I can’t right now,” Astoria said, not that she was putting up much of a fight. Parkinson dragged her by the arm. This time, they went into an empty classroom. The door clicked shut ominously. “I have to go to Charms. I’ll be late, and Professor Flitwick will be angry.”

“When is Flitwick ever angry?” Parkinson said. “Besides, _I’ll_ be angry if you’re not wearing those things on underneath your uniform.”

Astoria’s heart fluttered, and she realized she really did not want to make Parkinson angry. She did everything she could, in fact, to keep her happy. She did her makeup again that morning, just like Parkinson wanted. With pink lipstick and rosy cheeks. Astoria wore a thick white headband in her hair, and she wore the stockings. She was trussed up just like Parkinson liked. She felt sort of… used.

“I do,” she insisted.

Parkinson stood unmoving, with her hands on her hips and a hint of a smile on her mouth. “You know I want proof, Greengrass.”

Astoria felt that familiar tingling again. 

“Did you think about me before class today?” Parkinson asked.

Astoria’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. I forgot all about that.”

“What?” Parkinson’s face fell into a frown.

Astoria swallowed, feeling like she’d failed in some way. “I’m sorry. It really was a mistake. But the good thing is I’m wet! I’m wet anyways, and isn’t that what you wanted?”

Pansy glared at her in a way that made Astoria nervous. “Lift your skirt,” Parkinson said quietly. 

Astoria wasted no time, and immediately grabbed her skirt and yanked it up to her waist. She also unbuttoned her top before having to be asked. Her nipples hardened instantly in the sharp, cool air. 

She waited like that for Parkinson to say something. But all she did was circle Astoria slowly and torturously. 

“Look at you,” Parkinson said finally. “At least you have your little outfit on. Do you like today’s pick?”

“Er…” Astoria bit her lip, trying to think. “It’s not bad. I don’t _dislike_ it.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want to be friends?”

“No,” Astoria said quickly. 

“I’ve bought you nice, pretty things. And you don’t even care. You don’t even want to be my friend after all the time I’ve spent on you.”

“I do want to be friends!”

“You disobeyed me.”

Astoria had never had a friend like this. Were friends supposed to act this way? 

But this was _Pansy Parkinson._

“I’m sorry, Pansy,” Astoria said again. “What can I do?”

A slow smile crossed Pansy’s face, and her eyes lit up. “Come with me.”

“But… Charms.”

“What did we just talk about?” Pansy asked sharply, and Astoria shut her mouth. “Forget Charms, you’re going to miss it. Fix your clothes and follow me.”

~ * ~

Astoria followed a step behind Pansy the whole way, and she realized she was being led to the dungeons. They passed Astoria’s room and walked to Pansy’s instead. Astoria recognized Daphne’s trunk in front of one of the beds. Pansy stopped at the bed next to it. She patted the sheets, gesturing for Astoria to sit down. 

Astoria waited on the edge of the bed for Pansy to get something out of the bottom drawer of her dresser.

“What’s that?” she asked, staring at the long, thin object in Pansy’s hand.

“Lie down.”

Astoria hesitated.

“Lie down,” Pansy repeated, “and you’ll find out.”

With a sigh, Astoria lied down on the bed, with her legs hanging off the edge facing Pansy. Staring at the ceiling, she could only see Pansy’s movements from her peripheral vision, and she didn’t want to lift her head… She thought it would be easier to just wait. Whatever Pansy was about to do with that thing, she was just going to wait and find out.

She gasped.

Pansy’s fingers were between her legs again. She felt Pansy lift the piece of the thong that was lodged between her pussy lips. She pulled on it so tightly, it squeezed her clit. Astoria whimpered and squirmed, biting her lip to stay silent. 

“You’re right,” Pansy said. “You did get wet today. I suppose your punishment won’t be too bad, then.”

“P… punishment?”

Pansy laughed softly. “This means you got wet without even thinking of me. Just… naturally.” She giggled while she traced the naked lips of Astoria’s pussy. “You’re a natural wetter.” 

Astoria’s pussy and ass both clenched; it was an embarrassing thing to be. A natural at wetting herself. It felt dirty and wrong. Like a little kid who wet the bed… but this time, she was older and it was somehow even worse than that.

“And you shaved. Good girl.”

A bit of relief flooded Astoria upon being praised.

“Spread your legs.” Pansy threaded the panty out of her and rested it in the crease of her thigh and her twat. “You’re a sweet girl, really, aren’t you, Astoria?”

Astoria nodded and hummed a sound of assent. She closed her eyes as Pansy started to push her finger in…

“What a little slut.”

Astoria opened her eyes, her heart racing and a wave of shame assaulting her. “I’m not a slut,” she said. 

Pansy slapped her right on her pussy, and Astoria jumped and closed her legs. 

“Stay still!” Strong hands forced her legs apart. She felt another stinging slap over her bare pussy. 

“Ow!”

“You are a slut.” _Slap_. “You get wet over nothing. _Slap_. “You look like a sweet little girl, with that headband and those pink lips, but you get wet in class.”

Astoria bit her lip as Pansy slapped her over and over, until her pussy stung and burned. The words echoed in her mind.

“Now you have a pink twat to match. That should teach you to talk back to me.”

Astoria had no idea what was happening. Her eyes moistened dangerously. How did this… this _thing_ get so far? What had she gotten herself into? 

In some deep, dark part of herself, she knew she sort of liked it.

The bed sank as Pansy climbed on, crawling over Astoria’s body. Their faces were level, and Pansy’s breasts pushed against Astoria’s chest. Astoria felt herself getting even wetter, her pussy hot from the spanking and from the feelings coursing through her. Pansy grinned deviously, and Astoria focused on the curve of her lips. They were so, so close.

She tilted her chin up and caught Pansy’s mouth with her own. Pansy grabbed her wrists and Astoria let her easily pull her arms over her head, pinning her down as Pansy deepened the kiss. Astoria had never had an open-mouthed kiss before. Not with anyone. She felt like Pansy was claiming her, and she let Pansy’s tongue in to roam where it would.

With one hand, Pansy reached down and inserted a finger into Astoria’s pussy, and Astoria gasped into her open mouth. First one finger, in and out of her tight entrance, and then another following the same slow rhythm. Then there were three, pushing into her slick hole. 

She found herself making little whimpering noises in the back of her throat, and pushing her hips up to take Pansy’s finger’s deeper. 

Pansy broke their kiss. “Eager little slut,” she said hoarsely. 

Astoria’s eyes were shut tightly. “Yes,” she breathed, lost in the pleasure of it.

“I know just the thing a slut like you needs.”

Suddenly there weren’t fingers inside her any longer, but the press of a more solid, blunt object. The thing Pansy was holding earlier… being slowly pushed inside her. Astoria gritted her teeth, feeling it’s cool, smooth, unyielding hardness invade her far deeper than Pansy’s fingers had. 

Pansy stopped moving it. “There,” she said. “All the way in.”

Astoria breathed deeply, feeling her entire pussy thrum. The object felt solid. Like an intruder; something foreign inside her that didn’t quite fit and wouldn’t mould to the inner curve of her body. 

“Sit up.”

Astoria moaned and frowned. 

“Come on.” Pansy spanked her inner thigh, and Astoria yelped. “Get up now.”

Slowly, and with a heavy sigh, Astoria lowered her arms and lifted herself up into a sitting position.

“Oh! Oh, my…” She could feel the object even more sharply. 

“It’s a vibrator,” Pansy said. “A toy I picked up while you waited.” An evil smirk covered her flushed face. “Did you ever imagine I was buying something like this for you while you sat alone in the Hog’s Head?”

Cheeks burning, Astoria shook her head. 

Pansy whispered a spell Astoria didn’t recognize, and the vibrator started buzzing inside her. It was soundless, but it shook her from the inside.

“Pansy!” Astoria clenched her legs together, but that didn’t help, because this thing was _inside_ her. “Make it stop.”

Pansy broke into a fit of giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were gleaming with pleasure and power. “I’ll only make it stop before dinner.”

“What? That’s hours from now!”

“You’re wet enough to handle it. Nearly drenched my hand.”

“But Pansy, I have classes. What am I going to do?”

“Relax,” Pansy said, petting Astoria’s mussed hair and straightening it out with her fingers. “It’s silent - no one can hear it. No one will know it’s there.” Astoria whimpered and pouted. “Come back here before dinner. If you’re a good girl and it’s still in place, I will take it out. If I see any sign that you’ve removed it… and I _will_ know… your punishment will be bad. Do you understand, little slut?” she asked sweetly.

Astoria’s entire face burned hot with shame. As she slowly nodded her head with a deep pout, she felt the sentiment grasp her from the inside. Maybe she was a slut.

~ * ~

It was the first time Astoria couldn’t sit still in class. It was embarrassing. She clenched her thighs together, tapped her feet, wriggled in her seat… but nothing seemed to soothe the vibrations inside her. She couldn’t focus on a word that was being said in the lecture. The room felt hot and claustrophobic.

A boy was staring at her. 

Astoria scowled at him. A drop of sweat tickled her skin as it made its way down her temple.

She faced forward and glared at the professor. The minutes seemed to slowly roll by, and that in itself was agony.

Blood pounded through her pussy, making her want to rub herself against the chair, but that would be too obvious and it seemed she already had an audience. She needed a mental distraction - and the lecture was not cutting it. 

Parkinson. She thought of Parkinson. Of her weight on top of her and the way Parkinson’s fingers slid into her pussy and gave her that sweet relief she needed. And that kiss… Astoria’s chest fluttered and her breath all but left her. She wanted Parkinson to kiss her between classes. To kiss her before lunch. To take Astoria’s hand and lead her to little, secret places in the castle that only Parkinson knew, and to press Astoria against stone walls, and kiss her soundly. 

Astoria was startled by the movement all around her, and she realized the lesson had ended. People were packing their books and beginning to file out. Licking her lips, she fussed with her textbook and pretended to be organizing her notes of parchment. When even the professor had left - but not before casting Astoria a sharp, questioning look - Astoria got up quickly from her seat, swinging her bag over her shoulder. 

She glanced at the chair and winced in embarrassment at the clear wetness smeared on the wooden seat.

There was no way she had the strength to endure another lesson. She nearly ran in her haste to get back to the dungeons, bumping into people and dodging others along the way. All she needed to do was get in her bed, and then everything would be all right. 

Her dorm room was empty and quiet at this time of day, the beds all half-made in evidence of the morning’s shuffle. Astoria dropped her bag, kicked off her shoes, and jumped onto her bed. She spread herself out on top of the cool, wrinkled sheets, parting her legs. She let out a high pitched whine.

Her hand traveled lower until her fingers traced her soaked panties, and she ripped them off. She fingered the base of the vibrator, which was beginning to slide out of her. Immediately, she held it in with the flat of her palm, unwilling to disobey Pansy by letting it slip out. 

Her pussy was overly sensitive everywhere she touched… and touching felt _so good_. So she kept doing it, running her fingers all over herself. She played with the inner lips of her pussy, stroking them and pulling on them, and then yelped at the electrifying sensation when she traced over her clit. That was almost too much, touching there; it bordered on painful. 

“Well, well,” came Parkinson’s voice.

Astoria jumped and scrambled into a sitting position. Parkinson stood by the doorway, one hand gripping the doorknob. 

“How did you know I was here?” Astoria asked, panting. 

“I saw you after class and followed you.” Parkinson stepped inside and shut the door behind her, turning the lock to click. “Couldn’t last the rest of the day, could you?”

“Who could with this thing?” Astoria said, slumping back down onto the mattress and splaying her legs apart shamelessly, showing Pansy her pussy. “It’s torturous. It won’t let me relax. I’ve…” She breathed heavily, unbuttoning her blouse to let her overheated chest breathe. “I’ve never had this feeling before.”

Pansy sat down next to her on the bed and pulled her own blouse off over her head, snagging a bit of her hair in the buttons. Astoria stared at Pansy’s breasts, which were bigger and fuller than hers and which spilled from the top of her bra. It was a mesmerizing sight. 

Pansy’s half naked body loomed over of her. “I can make it better,” Pansy said, reaching between Astoria’s legs. 

“Oh, God, yes!” Astoria felt relief in waves, and she eagerly awaited whatever it was Pansy had in store for her. She nearly cried when she felt Pansy finally pull the vibrator out. “Oh, that’s so strange now. I feel so empty now.”

Pansy laughed, and her smile became devious. “I can help with that.” She wasted no time in shoving three whole fingers into Astoria’s pussy, and this time, Astoria moaned with pleasure. 

“Please,” she said, pushing her hips onto Pansy’s hand. “More… Harder.”

“God, what a slut.” Pansy complied, fucking Astoria fast with her fingers as she looked down upon her and laughed.

“Oh. Oh, yes.” Astoria couldn’t care less what she was saying, or what it sounded like. All she knew was how amazing it felt to have Pansy’s fingers up her pussy. “Yes, Pansy, please do it more.”

Pansy laughed again. She reached up and pulled down the cups of Astoria’s bra, and Astoria’s breasts fell out. They bounced up and down on her chest with the motion of the fucking. 

“Look at you,” Pansy said, grinning broadly. 

She suddenly stopped and pulled her hand from between Astoria’s legs. With a swift movement, she climbed on top of Astoria, straddling her hips. Astoria looked up just as Pansy was removing her own panties and pulling them off one leg, before flinging them onto the floor. 

“Feel that?” Pansy asked when she sat back down on Astoria. “That’s my pussy… all over you. Fucking you.”

Her hot, wet pussy slid over Astoria’s lower stomach, grinding her into the mattress with the rutting of Pansy’s hips. Astoria whined, her breasts bouncing harder as she was fucked. 

Pansy’s eyes looked hazily upon Astoria’s body, her brow set in a look of determination. She took what she wanted from Astoria. In moments, Pansy began to shudder. She closed her eyes and grinded frantically, in small pulses, her neck and cheeks more flushed than ever. Finally, she cried out. Pansy’s shoulders sagged, and she breathed heavily. 

Astoria bucked her hips, her own need unsated. 

Pansy opened her eyes and looked at her as if she had forgotten Astoria entirely. Then she lifted a leg and slid off Astoria’s body. Astoria watched as Pansy found her blouse and panties on the floor and took her time getting redressed. 

“Pansy?” Astoria said, her voice needy even to her own ears. 

Pansy looked at her and smirked. She walked to the edge of the bed, and without even getting on, she rubbed Astoria’s clit with two fingers. Astoria threw her head back with a moan, and squirmed and lifted her legs into the air. Pansy was relentless, her fingers whipping back and forth, massaging Astoria’s clit furiously. 

A feeling built up deep inside her, and soon Astoria’s mind went totally blank, and she forgot where she was and even whom she was with. All she saw knew was pleasure, and she yelled out as her body clenched up and shook, her limbs all trembling. 

When she came back down, her head a bit fuzzier than before, she looked upon Pansy with heavily-lidded eyes. Astoria couldn’t even speak. Couldn’t make a sound. 

“Very nice, Greengrass.” Pansy smiled, this time almost friendly. She leaned over Astoria, their faces inches apart, and then pressed their lips together.

**Author's Note:**

> Contact me on tumblr: [@heyitsamorette](https://heyitsamorette.tumblr.com/)


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